


hikari

by tsuhika



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Teen Romance, Tsukishima Kei Being an Asshole, Tsukishima Kei is Bad at Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25876090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsuhika/pseuds/tsuhika
Summary: [k. tsukishima x reader]kei lived his whole life in silent isolation, craving nothing more than a soundless existence.but with you and your light, he finds that he might want something more.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Original Female Character(s), Tsukishima Kei/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 138





	hikari

**Author's Note:**

> this is a longer, angstier one, so strap in folks! i hope you enjoy, please let me know if you did and what you think! <3

Kei’s mom often told him that the two of you reminded her of the sun and the moon.

He understood the cliche comparison. You were loud where he was quiet, sunny where he was cold, understanding where he was rude. He’d been hearing it nonstop since he’d met you many years ago, and he doubted he would stop hearing it anytime soon. Even though he’d heard it hundreds, probably millions of times, the comparison never failed to irritate him.

It reminded him of you in that aspect.

With your families being so close since you were children, it was no surprise that the two of you knew each other well. Wherever you went, he seemed to follow, and vice versa. If he were anyone else, he might call you his best friend. Thankfully, he wasn’t anyone else. 

Kei knew you completed him, supplementing the parts of his personality that made him seem unapproachable. His brother had told him once that he was easier to interact with when you were by his side. From a personal viewpoint, he had no way of confirming this, but he had a sinking suspicion it was true.

Based on his mother’s teasing and her constant questions, Kei assumed that she had the wild idea that the two of you were going to get married or something when you graduated. She was dead wrong. She was dead wrong because Kei  _ hated _ you.

Well, sort of.

He knew his own reputation: heartless, rude for no reason, upsettingly snarky. And, to be honest, he was happy with that. He enjoyed the solitude that came with being so detached, and he had no reason to want to change. Scratch that, he had no reason to change except you.

He couldn’t explain it completely, because if he could, he would stop feeling this way. It had started small, the way he started to smile more in your presence, the occasional stolen glances, and even the brush of his hand on yours when he walked beside you. Soon, he had to force a grin off his face when you were around, and the feeling made him want to crawl out of his own skin.

Kei had a thing for always being in control. His overall uncaring demeanor allowed him to have the upper hand at all times, never one to give someone the satisfaction of his reaction. It had done him well for years, until now.

Until you.

The creeping feeling whenever he was around you was like an itch he couldn’t scratch, the catalyst for the short breaks in his emotionless state. The small smiles he gave you when you told a stupid joke, or his sudden generosity when he bought you food after you had a rough day.

Because of these contrasting emotions, Kei both hated and loved you at the same time.

And  _ that _ was something he hated.

* * *

When you ran up to him at school, Kei fought the twinge of endearment he felt, shoving it deep down inside of him where you could never see it. He wanted to make sure of that. He responded with minimal interest when you greeted him, but your enthusiasm never faltered, and he felt like smiling again.

It was infuriatingly cute, and so in-character for you that he didn’t know how he hadn’t seen it coming. Despite his outwardly unfriendly attitude, you shined, lighting up the shadows that he left behind.

You recounted a TV show to him that you had watched the night before while opening up a package of chocolate bread that you brought for breakfast. You split the bun in half, placing the other half on Kei’s desk because you knew he wouldn’t accept it in his hand. It was too personal, too intimate, and you seemed to understand that he wanted as little of that as possible.

Eating half of your bread was a tradition for him every morning, started long ago when he had offhandedly mentioned that he didn’t eat breakfast. He found himself looking forward to your visits before the day started and you left for your own classroom. 

That was something else that made you so addicting. You were so selflessly caring, always looking out for him with as little noise as possible because you knew he hated asking for your help. You knew him too well, and that scared him.

Either way, the chocolate bread always tasted sweeter when it was from you.

* * *

Kei was someone who valued his silence. 

By silence, he meant the silence of his room, the quiet, unassuming energy where only he existed. He could put headphones in and be lost in his own world without distractions, and he rarely let anyone interrupt the precious moment for him. Naturally, you were an exception. 

You came over to study often, and because his house was like your own, you never offered much warning before you came in. He acted annoyed everytime you appeared, but in reality, he didn’t mind your presence. He dared even say that he enjoyed it, not that he would ever tell you.

Even tutoring was less of a chore if it was for you. Being so close to you, explaining a new topic and watching your eyes widen and sparkle with understanding, it was something Kei liked. Even when he insulted you for every mistake you made, you laughed it off without complaint, because you were just grateful to be with him.

Kei knew he was smart, and he usually had little patience for idiots like Kageyama and Hinata. You weren’t dumb by any means, but you certainly weren’t at Kei’s level, yet he respected you still. He found that you were intelligent in ways that he couldn’t comprehend, smarter than him when it came to everything outside of books.

When you were there, his room certainly wasn’t as silent as he usually liked it. It was filled with laughter, with the glow you constantly carried with you, and Kei couldn’t bring himself to dislike it. For some reason, he had little difficulty allowing you into his world, and he didn’t see you as a distraction.

Because of this exception, Kei started to share his headphones with you.

* * *

Being sick was a feeling that no one liked, but everyone knew. Perhaps no one liked it less than Kei did.

When he was forced to stay in bed all day, he felt like he was wasting away, wasting time he could’ve spent studying or practicing. Remaining unproductive for long periods of time made Kei short-tempered and moody, impatient with the illness that ran rampant in his body.

He should’ve expected it, but when you came to take care of him, he couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed. Just by being in the same room as him, you were risking your own health, and he despised the thought of that. You didn’t mind sitting there doing nothing, usually opting to read a book, do some homework, or just chat with him to pass the time. Occasionally, you would check his temperature and replace the towel on his head, and you took your job very seriously.

These were the times when you really talked, telling Kei silly stories to squeeze a smile out of him among his sniffles and coughs. You talked animatedly, laughed purely, and grinned warmly, making him feel like his heart was going to burst.

On the outside, he acted as if he despised your presence, but you just teased him for being sick and moody. The tea and soup you served him was always delicious, but spending hours on end basking in your light was much better.

When you fell asleep at his bedside, the pages of a book hanging between your fingers and a soft pout on your lips, Kei thought that maybe it’s okay to be unproductive sometimes.

* * *

Volleyball was something Kei did for fun.

He liked it, sure, but it wasn’t like he was jumping for joy every time he saw a ball like some of the other people on his team. You, however, were elated that he had found a hobby, something he liked enough that he put in extra time after school to improve.

And, you being you, decided to show up to his games.

You’re loud when you cheer, loud enough for the rest of Karasuno to notice you, and Tanaka and Nishinoya are immediately whispering, excited at the sight of you.

It makes him sick. Even when Suga teases him, he can’t bring himself to retort.

After the game, you come down to congratulate him, and the entire team is on you within seconds, exploding with questions. You don’t seem to mind at all, smiling excitedly and talking with everyone like old friends.

Watching the team crowd around you like moths drawn to a flame, Kei tastes something bitter, feels something ugly clawing its way out of his heart. From where he is, from where you’re being covered by everyone else, he can’t see your light.

It poisons him. The thought of losing you, of having to share your light with everyone else, poisons him until he finds himself angry with you. He forced his anger down, willing his face to remain emotionless.

Kei is selfish, and he isn’t used to you shining on anyone except him.

* * *

With your families being so close since you were children, it was no surprise that the two of you knew each other well. He knew your ins and outs, and you knew his. And that was Kei’s downfall.

He knew it was childish, the fight. It was stupid and petty, but Kei was not above resorting to insults when it came to his pride. He had called you immature out of irritation and jealousy, and you had replied angrily.

It was so unlike him, but he could feel it, the twisting in his gut, the dam threatening to break as he slowly let his emotions slip out. Anger, jealousy, exasperation, and the like. Nothing made sense when it came to you. He kept the love inside, though, and that was his mistake.

When the words crossed his mind, Kei was immediately disgusted with himself. Knowing you so well, he knew exactly what your insecurities were, what pushed your buttons, what would really, truly hurt you. Anyone with a heart would know to never use such knowledge against you, but Kei was drunk in his own mind.

The words were so spiteful, so venomous that even he hesitated in saying them. In the back of his mind, Kei knew that you would never even consider saying something so hateful to him.

Was his pride really worth more to him than you were? In the moment of passion, the decision seemed easy, and he chose wrong.

Using the words as ammunition, he loaded them onto his tongue and he fired, spitting them at you with such harshness and contempt that he felt a bit of recoil. 

Nothing could’ve prepared him for your reaction. The pure, horrified anguish that crossed your face as you fell silent for the first time since he had met you. You looked at him like you were repulsed, like his mere existence made you sick. You looked at him like he was a monster.

In that instant, he sure felt like one.

The light in you seemed like it had gone out, because all Kei could see was his own darkness.

He felt like he could see his own reflection in the tears in your eyes, and he was petrified by what he saw, and what he realized that you saw.

Because, in your eyes that were broken, Kei saw his own face, smoothly emotionless and as impassive as ever.

* * *

  
  


The next few days were like a blur. Waking up in the morning, Kei was forced to close his eyes while he brushed his teeth, unable to make eye contact with his revolting reflection in the mirror. When his mother had gently asked him why he was roaring into his pillows, clutching his bedsheets with so much force that they were ripped off his bed, he yelled at her to get out. Left and right, he was hurting people he loved, spiraling with no end in sight.

Kei no longer hated you. He no longer hated you, or the feeling of loving you. The only thing he hated now was himself.

He walked through the halls of the school emotionlessly, and this time, it wasn’t an act. He truly felt like nothing, like a ghost moving with the crowd of people. He ignored greetings from his teammates, even from Yamaguchi, because he couldn’t be bothered anymore.

Pushing open the door of his classroom soundlessly, his eyes wandered toward the back of the room, landing on his desk, expecting it to be clean and bare as it had been every other morning. His eyes widened a bit, the most emotion he had shown all day, when he saw something there.

Laying neatly on his desk, illuminated by a single ray of sunlight passing through the window, was a package of chocolate bread.

And, for the first time in a long time, Kei felt a tear slip down his cheek.

* * *

He can no longer take it.

The guilt and pain eats away at him, ripping him apart from the inside out, and he’s so desperate for a release that he finds himself on your doorstep. He knows this is a bad idea, knows you probably don’t want to see him, but something possesses him to be there. Something possesses him to knock on your door.

Kei didn’t expect you to answer the door.

The sight of you nearly floors him, like he’s seeing you for the first time ever, and he realizes he has no idea what to say. His mouth opens and closes, his mind scrambling for the words, and he looks like a deer in the headlights. When he looks at you, really looks at you, he sees none of the light that he saw before.

Realizing he isn’t going to speak, you begin to close the door, and the image throws him into a frenzy.

Kei falls to your feet pathetically, like a peasant bowing to royalty, his tears splashing onto the wooden floor. He apologizes over and over, but he can barely get the words out through his sobs and hiccups. His lungs are barely working now, like there’s a vice in his chest. He starts to feel lightheaded, his forehead meeting the floor.

But he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. He deserves this, deserves it all. For every moment he ignored you, treated you like less, didn’t appreciate your presence. For the moment he shattered you without hesitation.

He doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore, throwing out every feeling, every emotion he has had since that fateful day in the hopes that he could convey his sorrow to you, in the hopes that he could somehow convince you to forgive him eventually.

He doesn’t notice when you kneel down next to him, too busy chanting your name like a mantra into the cold floor.

When he feels you pat his head, gently running a hand through his messy hair, he cries harder.

He slams a fist down, his nails scratching into the hardwood in frustration. It wasn’t right. He had hurt you, used everything you offered him against you, and here you were welcoming him back with open arms. He had broken you, and you had picked up the sharp pieces and offered them back to him with bloody hands. He didn’t deserve for you to even look at him.

Kei peered up at you through blurry eyes, throwing his glasses off in an attempt to see you better, and he could make out your expression just enough. He searches your face, almost desperate to find any hint of anger, any hint of repulsion, any hint that you remembered what he had done to you.

He wanted to throw up. You should’ve been screaming at him, telling him he was unforgivable, throwing him out and never looking back. But he knew you wouldn’t. He knew you wouldn’t because that wasn’t you.

Your light shined unconditionally without judgment or discrimination. It was in your nature to shine for everyone, not just him. The softness and familiarity in your eyes makes Kei’s heart clench, makes him want to rip it out and offer it to you as consolation. 

He breathes heavily, sitting there on the ground, everything else blurring into the background as he focused on you. His expression was one of disbelief, as if you could not be real, sitting there in front of him. Kei reached toward you slowly, carefully, afraid you would spill through his fingers like sand. At first contact with the bare skin of your arm, he flinches, surprised that he could actually still touch you. 

And he gathers you into his arms. He wraps you up, encasing you in his embrace so that you could never forget what he felt for you. His arms snake around your back as you sit between his knees, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck. He clings to you tightly, knuckles white as he bunches the material of your shirt between his fingers.

He knows. He knows now, realizes what had been so obvious before. He needs you. He’s connected to you, like a bird to the air. He doesn’t know when it happened, maybe 5 years ago, maybe 10. It doesn’t matter when it happened. He needs you to breathe, and he needs you to know that now.

You didn’t fight him, melting into his touch, and while he’s relieved, he’s still pained by the memory of what he has done. In his mind, he would need a lifetime to make it up to you. And he would.

The mask on his face was gone now, and you could see everything. Leaning into your ear, he chanted something else now, his apologies replaced with the words he had left unsaid before.

_ I love you, I love you, I love you _

Sitting there, with you in his arms, Kei feels different. He feels freer, like you had lifted a weight off of his shoulders. He feels the darkness leaving him.

For the first time, Kei lets your light shine on him completely.

**fin.**

  
  
  



End file.
